"You don't notice how easily you give me reasons to be jealous, and I don't tolerate competition." The message still echoed in Sarima's mind as loud music enveloped her, welcoming her into a world of deep blue ambient lighting, pulsing neon, and flashing laser displays. Her curious eyes wandered across the club, oblivious to the attention she was attracting.
By the time they arrived, the sky had turned an inky shade of blue. The building towered above them, impressive in both height and width. A cool breeze brushed against her exposed skin, making her suddenly aware of the revealing outfit that clung to her figure.
She followed Somy through a dimly lit hallway before a pair of grand double doors opened into the main venue.
"I knew you'd love it," Somy shouted excitedly near her ear as Sarima's eyes widened. "It definitely looks more interesting than what I see in movies," Sarima replied, taking in every detail as she followed her friend to one of the plush couches scattered around the VIP section.
"That's because this is a VIP nightclub," Somy replied, her hands already fiddling with the wine cork in the ice bucket placed on the small round table before them.
Sarima nodded. The place certainly looked different from anything she had imagined.
Unfortunately, her thoughts drifted back to the message.
She wondered how far she could push his jealousy before he snapped. The idea was strangely amusing. She imagined his reaction if he knew exactly where she was, surrounded by the very competition he claimed not to tolerate.
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
Her fingers brushed over the smooth leather couch as she breathed in the mixture of mint, expensive perfume, and alcohol lingering in the air. Around her, laughter blended with the music while glasses clinked in celebration.
For the first time in weeks, she felt completely detached from the worries waiting outside those walls, or at least, she tried to.
She was in a place where the rich would likely spend their money all night long to forget their sorrows, dance and hook up. It wouldn't hurt to loosen up a bit.
She picked up the wine-filled glass her best friend had poured for her and took a cautious sip. A crisp apple flavor spread across her tongue, sweet with a faint sharpness beneath it. It wasn't unpleasant. The smile on her lips deepened. Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.
The music pulsed through the room, vibrating beneath her feet as people danced beneath shifting lights. Waiters moved between tables carrying trays of drinks while laughter and conversation rose above the bass. Others sat at the bar, engrossed in whatever conversation they were having. Across the room, she locked eyes with a man before quickly looking away.
For now, she was content to sit back, watch and perhaps give someone a reason to be jealous.
Taking another sip, she leisurely surveyed the room. She had barely set her glass down when a shadow fell across her table and a voice suddenly pulled her attention away from the crowd.
"Mind if I join you?" The stranger she had locked eyes with smiled at her warmly as his gaze shifted between her and her best friend. Her best friend grinned widely and stretched her hand towards the empty space beside Sarima.
The stranger settled into the seat without hesitation, as though he knew they won't refuse him. "Alright," he said lightly, resting an arm on the back of the couch. "I'll take that as permission."
Somy let out a short laugh, clearly entertained. "He's bold. I like him already."
Sarima glanced at her friend briefly but said nothing, her expression calm as she returned her attention to the stranger. Up close, he carried an easy confidence,nothing aggressive."I didn't say you could sit," she replied evenly.
His smile widened slightly, as if that was the answer he wanted. "Noted. But you also didn't stop me."
Somy leaned forward between them. "See? This is why I brought you out. You both talk like you're in a competition."
Sarima exhaled softly through her nose but didn't argue. Instead, she picked up her glass again, letting the cool weight of it ground her as it slipped down her throat.
The stranger's attention didn't drift. If anything, it sharpened. "You don't really look like someone who enjoys places like this," he said.
"And you do?" Sarima countered which earned a quiet chuckle from him. "Fair point." His voice rang louder as a beat made few people scream.
For a moment, the conversation loosened. Somy added small comments here and there, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth, while the stranger kept steering his attention back to Sarima whenever it drifted.
"You're quiet," he observed after a pause.
"I'm listening." She replied with an uninterested expression.
"That sounds like an excuse people use when they don't want to admit they're interested." He sipped his scotch still keeping his gaze on her.
Sarima finally looked at him properly, her gaze steady. Up close, he was taller than she had first registered. Copper-red hair was combed back neatly, catching faint streaks of blue and violet light from the club as he moved. His face was sharply defined, chiseled in a way that suggested structure rather than softness, every angle deliberate and distinct.
He didn't look like someone trying to stand out, he looked like someone who simply did.
The kind of confidence that didn't ask for attention, but expected it anyway.
"And you sound like someone who's used to people being interested." She retorted.
There was a brief pause before he smiled again, a little softer this time."Maybe."
Around them, the club continued its blur of music and light, but Sarima began to notice the shift. Eyes from nearby tables flicking in their direction, lingering a little too long. Somy noticed too, of course, and looked far too pleased about it.
Sarima didn't react outwardly, but she was aware of it. The attention. The pairing. The way strangers tended to assume things too quickly in places like this.
And somewhere at the back of her mind, uninvited but persistent, the memory surfaced again.
I don't tolerate competition. She took another slow sip of her drink, as if the thought meant nothing.
The stranger leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to feel intentional.
"So," he said, "are you always this difficult, or did I just get lucky?" A faint smile lingered on his lips as he leaned back. "Dominic."
Somy let out a short laugh.
"Finally..." she said, pointing at him like she had been waiting for that basic piece of information. "Finally, a name. He was starting to feel illegal."
Sarima exhaled softly allowing silence to settle.
Somy didn't waste the moment. "Her name is Sarima," she added quickly, pointing at her friend like she was introducing someone on stage. "Since she clearly wasn't going to say it herself."
Sarima turned her head slowly. "Somy."
"What?" Somy asked innocently, eyes wide like she hadn't done anything.
She enjoyed the fact that her bestie had finally accepted the club idea after months of persuasion. Sarima had always been the shy and enclosed type especially when it came to relationships and she wanted her to be open minded and not stuck with that Chen of a guy she's had an obvious crush on for years and the stupid guy still hadn't made a move.
Just as the conversation began to settle into an unexpectedly comfortable rhythm, Sarima suddenly remembered the letters.
The letters! Her eyes widened at the remembrance. She had promised herself she would hand them over to Somy before the night got too busy.
"I'll be right back," she said, rising from her seat and Somy immediately looked up from her drink. "Where are you going?"
"The bathroom." She hung her bag and locked eyes again with Dominic before meeting her best friend's stare.
A suspicious grin instantly appeared on her friend's face and Sarima narrowed her eyes. "What?"
"Nothing." Somy responded, taking another sip, the grin widened.
"I know that look." Sarima narrowed her eyes at her and Somy's eyes lit in amusement "What look?"
"The one you get whenever you're planning nonsense." Sarima retorted.
"I wasn't even thinking anything." Somy shrugged and placed the wine glass on the table with a soft clink.
"That's exactly what someone thinking something would say." She rolled her eyes.
Dominic watched the exchange with obvious amusement.
"I'm going to the bathroom, Somy. Not eloping."
"Yet."
"Somy."
"Fine, fine."
Her friend lifted both hands in surrender, though the mischievous smile never left her face.
"Take your time."
The way she said it made Sarima even more suspicious.
Shaking her head, she disappeared into the crowd before Somy could say anything else.
Unfortunately, finding the bathroom proved far more difficult than she had anticipated.
The nightclub seemed to have been designed by someone who enjoyed confusing people. Every hallway branched into another hallway, and every turn revealed yet another dimly lit corridor illuminated by strips of blue light.
After several wrong turns, Sarima found herself completely disoriented.
It was becoming increasingly obvious that regular visitors probably knew their way around effortlessly. She, however, did not.
Finally swallowing her pride, she approached a passing staff member and asked for directions.
A few minutes later, she found herself standing before the restroom doors.
"About time," she muttered.
Inside, the bathroom was just as extravagant as the rest of the club. Large mirrors lined the walls, reflecting warm golden light.
Stepping in front of one, she took a moment to inspect herself. The black transparent cowl-neck top draped elegantly over her figure, revealing the black bra beneath. Paired with a tight leather black skirt and black knee-high stilleto boots, the outfit was far bolder than what she usually wore.
Her bestie had made sure she looked absolutely stunning by taking her to a boutique and a salon so they could deal with her earlier appearance as she phrased it
Her fingers drifted to her hair.
The sides had been neatly woven and pinned back, allowing her curls to flow freely down her back.
For someone who rarely dressed this daringly, she looked surprisingly comfortable. Not bad.
Pulling out her gloss, she carefully reapplied it before spraying perfume lightly against her wrists and neck. The familiar scent settled around her immediately.
Content with her appearance, she slipped everything back into her bag and headed for the exit.
The moment she stepped into the hallway, she remembered the letters again. Her hand immediately found her bag. One envelope, two, three. Good. Still there.
Relieved, she continued rummaging through her bag, making sure everything remained exactly where she had left it.
Distracted by the contents, she rounded a sharp corner and crashed straight into someone. The impact sent her bag slipping from her shoulder, its contents scattered across the floor.
"Damn it." She cursed lightly.
Dropping into a crouch immediately, she began gathering her things. "Are people blind?" she muttered under her breath.
"Interesting accusation." A deep voice answered. "Considering you were the one looking down."
Her fingers froze. That voice. She shut her eyes and took in a deep breath. She didn't know why this guy was appearing so often. The universe must definitely be playing games with me. She thought with a hum.
Slowly, her head snapped upward and the noise of the club faded into the background.
The man standing before her was dressed entirely in black. A fitted black shirt stretched across broad shoulders, the first two buttons left undone, revealing just little of the tatto that was peaking out. Matching black pants completed the look.
His shoulder-length jet black hair was pulled back into a neat man bun.
Of all the people she had expected to see tonight...
He was definitely not one of them.
Aetos crouched down and reached for one of the envelopes scattered near his feet, a white envelope. Sarima's eyes widened.
Before he could properly examine it, she snatched it from his hand. "What are you doing?" The question came out almost as a screech.
Only then did she realize how long she had been staring at him and how completely she had failed to notice him picking up one of the letters.
"And why do you keep touching things that aren't yours?" she added. Hurriedly, she stuffed the remaining envelopes into her bag.
Aetos watched her in silence. The moment she was done, she stood and he rose too. Towering over her as always.
Sarima hated how small she felt around him. It irked her far more than she cared to admit. Tightening her grip on her bag, she shot him a glare before turning on her heel and walking away.
One turn, Then another, Then another. Her pace gradually slowed. The hallways all looked exactly the same. Again. With a sigh of frustration, she stopped and turned around.
Aetos was still there. Of course he was. "Why do you keep following me like a lost puppy?" she demanded, staring at the man whose steps had stopped with his hands in his pocket, wearing a calm expression.
The corner of his mouth twitched. "I guess I'm trying to make sure this lost puppy doesn't get too lost."
Her glare deepened. His gaze, however, drifted over her. The black outfit suited her far too well. The transparent cowl-neck top revealed her slender neck and the tattoo on her spine from the low waist as she walked. The leather skirt,the heels. Combined with the curls spilling down her back, she looked nothing like the girl he was used to seeing.
The realization was unsettling and dangerous. Because she was stunning. Not that she wasn't before. He thought to himself.
"Finished staring?" she asked dryly, his eyes returned to hers. "Not quite."
Sarima rolled her eyes, though the warmth creeping into her cheeks betrayed her irritation.
Unfortunately for her, Aetos noticed that too. Amusement flickered across his face, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.